Oh, Sharlee, I am just muddling through! Figuring this all out as I limp along.

I was reminded by a wise friend yesterday of a genius comment ascribed to my neighbor here, Voltaire: “Le mieux est l’ennemi du bien.” Trans:, “The best (or perfection) is the enemy of the good.” If I wait for the perfect time in my life, or the perfect stunning phrase for a chapter, or the perfect weather circumstances to shoot an outdoor vlog, or the perfect hair day to shoot that outdoor vlog indoors, then I’ll wait and wait. And I’ll wait. And I’ll never just produce the “good” I am destined to produce. I’ll regret waiting for perfection all the way to my perfect grave.

So . .there’s no turning back now. Here’s to “good enough”. And “imperfect”. And “try”. And “life”.

Melissa—How the energy of the universe works—haven’t thought of my days at BYU much and last night oddly your name popped into my head—strangely I saw a Parker pen and your son, images of a baby popped into my head and I kept ignoring it until I couldn’t take it anymore and I looked up his name. All I can say is that I understand your pain too well–must have been an over the veil conversation between those who know us well. Conversation for another venue. So coincidently (of which I don’t believe) after 20 plus years I look you up the day you announce the upcoming release of your memoir in your video blog. I laugh–since words can’t come close to detailing the irony. And I too release my thoughts for public scrutiny — God help us both! All my best would love to hear from you—when you have time—funny, Nicht Wahr? Paula DeGraff

Oh, Paula, my long lost (and undoubtedly inspired) friend. I’m sitting in total stillness, emotion working through my surprised bones like a low-current of iced electricity. It HAS been over 20 years. And I have thought of you so often – and especially recently!- that this whole “non-coincidence” heats that electrical current right this moment.

Over-the-veil. Yes. That there are those of yours on that side who know us here brings such sharp sorrow to me. But I’m humbled to softness,too. I don’t know what to say. Please: a conversation for another venue, friend, although you’re right, words don’t come close. Not to these sorts of realities.

Love and love to you, my friend. Now I wish I’d started vlogging back in Singapore. Think of the fascinating, noisy, cluttered, glossy shots we’d have had? And how often the lens would have been fogged over with 90% humidity?